


Monocular

by Onehelluvapilot



Series: Febuwhump [18]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Caring Knights (Merlin), Eye Trauma, Gen, Graphic Description of Wounds, Hurt Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Protective Merlin (Merlin), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29144466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onehelluvapilot/pseuds/Onehelluvapilot
Summary: During an ambush by bandits, Arthur gets cut across the eye.
Relationships: Knights of the Round Table & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Febuwhump [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134998
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	Monocular

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by LiGi

They had just a moment of warning between Merlin announcing that he had a bad feeling and the bandits attacking them. Why bandits would choose to attack a fully armed group of knights was a question they didn't have time to ask as they drew their swords and were soon embroiled in the fight. Merlin took up his typical position behind a tree, keeping an eye on the others and dropping branches on bandits or making them trip when they got too close to one of his friends. The knights had training the bandits clearly didn't, so the fight was over quickly. Instinctively they all looked up at each other, checking for injuries. Elyan was the first to move, darting forward and grabbing Arthur’s arm before he collapsed.

"Oh gods," Percival murmured. Merlin was inclined to agree with him. The entire right side of the king’s face was bloody. There was so much red that he couldn't tell whether his eye had been gouged out by the blow that had slashed his face. His knees buckled and Merlin leapt forward to help Elyan keep him from face-planting into the mud. For one horrible instant he thought the man was dead before he groaned.

"I'm okay," he muttered, though that clearly couldn't have been farther from the truth. Merlin, still bracing Arthur with one hand, untied his neckerchief with the other and quickly balled it up to press to his face. He held it over his eye with an open hand while shifting his left hand to cradle the back of his head and push it down into the bandage a little harder. The king groaned.

"I know, I'm sorry, but I have to slow down the bleeding."

"Can you see how bad it is?" Elyan asked fearfully. He had good reason to be scared for his friend; head injuries were always dangerous, what with how much they bled, and Arthur wouldn't be able to remain such an active soldier as well as a king if he lost the eye.

"Not until the bleeding stops. I'll need a lot of boiled water to clean it as well, so we need to find a stream or river and start a fire."

"We passed a creek not far back," Leon reminded them.

"We'll head there. Arthur, do you think you can hold this yourself?" Merlin asked, pulling his friend's hand up to the makeshift bandage. "You need to press hard." He didn't move his own hand until he was sure the pressure applied by the king was sufficient. “Can you walk?”

“It’s my eye that’s hurt, Merlin, not my legs,” he growled. It was different from the usual snappishness with which he spoke to his servant; an undercurrent of fear was audible running through it. Therefore, Merlin didn’t let the tone drive him away, and stuck right by his boss’s side as he got to his feet. Percival took his other side, holding onto his left arm. Surprisingly, Arthur didn’t grumble about that, and even allowed the tall knight to pull the limb over his own shoulders to help support him.

"We'll need wood for a fire," Merlin said when they reached the creek, and instantly Gwaine, Elyan, and Leon disappeared to go find some. Percival helped Arthur sit down leaning against a tree and took over the job of holding the bandage when the injured man’s hand began to shake, while Merlin began to scratch out a spot for the campfire and pull various small jars and bundles of herbs out from his medicine bag. He quickly got a fire going when the others returned with the wood and set up their pot over it to heat water. It took a while to begin boiling; meanwhile he came to check on Arthur.

"Does it feel like the bleeding is slowing down at all?" he asked. Much of the blood on the king’s face had dried, and was now sticky and probably uncomfortable, but Arthur likely didn't notice because the injury itself had to hurt way worse.

"Well, it hasn't seeped through the fabric," Percival replied.

"Let's take a look then." Merlin pulled his hand away and began to carefully peel back the bandage. It was stuck there with blood though, and Arthur couldn't hold in a groan. The servant immediately stopped tugging on it. "On second thought, let's get you lying down first, and then I can soften this with some hot water and it won't hurt so much."

Arthur nodded thankfully, shifting himself downwards with some help until he lay on his back, and Percival balled up his cloak and slipped it under his head for a pillow. He also laid a hand over the king’s forehead to try to steady him, and for comfort, if he would accept it. His arm wasn’t shoved away, so it seemed like he would. Leon carried over the pot of hot water for them and one of their little tin cups to use to pour it. Merlin waited until it had cooled enough that it wouldn’t burn him, though it was still quite hot, before beginning to pour it gently over the injured man’s eye.

“Ow!” Arthur barked.

“It’s not too hot, is it?” Merlin asked nervously.

“No, it just… hurts.”

“Well, I’m sorry to say I don’t think it’s going to stop hurting anytime soon. It’ll probably actually get worse before it gets better.”

Arthur groaned, and Percival squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. The water pouring over the king’s face must've been uncomfortable with the way he squirmed against it, his visible left eye screwing shut, but it had to be done. Once the neckerchief stuck to the wound was soaked through, Merlin was able to pull it away without too much pain, revealing just more blood. He thought he could make out part of a cut on his eyebrow, but it was hard to see.

"Okay, I'm gonna start cleaning it now alright? And you gotta hold still for me, or else I might end up hurting you."

“Hurting me more, you mean,” the king grumbled.

"I've got it," Percival reassured them both, adjusting his hands to hold over his friend's temples so he couldn't thrash his head. Merlin took a corner of the shirt Gwaine brought him and dipped it in the water before beginning to wipe away the blood. He poured some water with the cup over the eye itself, since he didn't want to risk touching it until he could see whether it was damaged. Gradually the skin began to be revealed, along with the wound.

It was a long cut stretching from halfway up his forehead, down through his eyebrow, and across his right eye before ending at his cheekbone. It was deep, with a white flash of bone visible on his cheek, but it seemed like the eye socket had helped protect him, and on his eyelid, the cut was more of a scratch.

"Arthur, can you slowly open your eyes? Try not to scrunch up your face if you can, and if it hurts too much that's okay. If you can’t manage it though, I'll have to touch your eye and I’d like to avoid doing that if possible." Not only would it have hurt, but it would have increased the risk of infection. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be necessary. Arthur’s eyelashes fluttered before he hesitantly blinked up at them. His eyes instantly started watering from the pain, but it seemed like his gaze was tracking Merlin's face. There was no visible damage to the dark blue iris, his pupil, or the white of his eye. "Can you see with your right eye?" The servant asked, holding his breath as he waited for an answer.

“No,” Arthur said. “Merlin, I can’t see!”

“Easy, calm down. It might just be the swelling because of the wound, since your eye itself doesn’t appear to be damaged. There’s every reason to hope that your vision will come back with time.” That seemed to calm the king down somewhat, or else he just didn’t want to panic in front of people. He pressed his eyes closed tightly, and Merlin winced at seeing how the movement pulled at the wounds, but didn’t scold him for it. “I am going to have to stitch your forehead and cheek, and I’m sorry, but it’s probably going to scar pretty badly.”

“ _ How _ badly?” he demanded.

“Well, your face isn’t quite disfigured, but the scar will probably be pretty noticeable.” He would have liked to give Arthur a mirror, but they obviously hadn’t brought one, and it wasn’t like he could magic up a scrying glass to let him look at it. “I’ll make the stitches as small as possible, which will minimize the scarring somewhat, and there are things Gaius can do when we’re back in Camelot to further reduce how noticeable it is.”

“You better not ruin my face,” Arthur growled.

“Okay then, well you better not move while I’m stitching it. Percival, I’ll need you to hold him again. And let me get you something to bite down on.” He rolled up the clean sleeve of the shirt he’d been using to wipe away the blood, and slipped it between Arthur’s teeth before threading a needle and beginning to work on the stitches. It took an agonizingly long time, since he was trying to be so careful doing it, and the king was shaking by the time he pulled closed the stitches on the half of the cut above his eye. “Halfway there,” Merlin reassured him, patting his shoulder.

“Haghway?!” Arthur mumbled through the cloth in his mouth.

“I know, I’m sorry, but I’m doing the best I can here, alright? It’ll be over soon. Just try to think about something else.”

“I can tell some dumb jokes if you want,” Gwaine suggested, showing a remarkable amount of self awareness about his humor that he normally didn’t seem to possess.

“That’s more likely to make Merlin laugh than anything, and I think that’s what we want to avoid,” Elyan countered.

“I have some stories I could tell,” Lancelot offered.

“I think he may be able to concentrate better without sound,” Leon suggested, to which Arthur agreed with a thumbs up, and they all went quiet again, just whispering amongst themselves enough to be able to ignore the occasional whimper.

Finally, Merlin finished with all the stitches, and smeared a bit of honey over them before Percival helped Arthur to sit up so he could wrap his head in bandages. He wished he could apply a poultice, but with the location of the wounds, to do so would be more likely to cause infection than prevent it if some got into his eye.

“Arthur, do you think you can walk?” he asked gently.

“I told you before, Merlin, it’s not my legs that are hurt. I’m sure I can walk just fine,” the king insisted, immediately trying to get to his feet. The servant had to grab hold of him to keep him from toppling over. “Okay, so maybe I’m a bit dizzy,” he admitted.

“That would be the blood loss,” Merlin informed him, keeping his hand firmly closed around his arm. “Let us help you.” Arthur nodded, and Leon hurried over to take his other side as he stood up and they began the slow journey back to Camelot.

When they finally reached it, Arthur stopped outside the city gates. He was supported almost entirely by Leon and Percival at this point, so they didn’t notice he had stopped until they’d carried him forward with his feet dragging in the mud for a few strides.

“Wait,” he ordered, but it wasn’t in his kingly determined voice. He sounded almost… scared. Merlin was by his side instantly. “What if… what if Gwen doesn’t like me anymore, or think I’m handsome, because of the scar?”

“Arthur, out of all the dumb things I’ve ever heard you say, that has to be among the dumbest,” Merlin replied. “I’m sorry, have you ever  _ met _ Gwen? Do you know your wife  _ at all _ ? What in the world would make you think she would love you any less because of a scar?”

Realizing that his servant was right, Arthur huffed. Merlin may be a terrible, unreliable servant most of the time, but he could always be counted on to knock the king down a peg when he was about to make poor decisions. Reassured, in the most mocking way possible, that his wife wouldn’t reject him for the new scar, Arthur allowed his friends to carry him the rest of the way home.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/Commentes make my day!


End file.
